


A minute before midnight

by heathtrash



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, Stargazing, Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heathtrash/pseuds/heathtrash
Summary: Ada and Hecate are stargazing to see in the New Year, as is their custom - but will they begin this year as they have always done, or quite differently?
Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom
Comments: 18
Kudos: 52
Collections: The Worst Witch Winter Warmers 2019





	A minute before midnight

Ada raised her head to the sky, a thoughtful expression on her face, which was mostly concealed in a fuzzy pink scarf. Hecate warmed inside to see the sight of Ada bundled up in her knitwear.

“What’s the time now, Hecate?”

It was a cold, clear New Year’s Eve, and the headmistress and her deputy had just shared their traditional late-night candlelit dinner and were on the north turret of the castle, admiring the stars together. There was no moon to cast her light and dim the stars with her beauty; the conditions were ideal for stargazing. The only trouble Hecate anticipated was hiding her feelings for Ada for yet another year.

Hecate pressed the crown of her pocket watch to open the half-hunter case. “It’s a quarter to midnight,” Hecate responded, clicking her watch closed, the hint of a tremor in her voice.

Ada looked sharply over at Hecate. “You’re cold.”

“I’m all right, Ada.” Hecate swallowed, doing her best not to let Ada see her shiver. While Ada’s ears were warm under her cable-knit beret, Hecate had only her pointed witch’s hat that left her ears and neck rather exposed.

“I can tell you’re cold.”

“No, really, Ada, I—”

Ada conjured one of the granny square blankets from her office—which was notoriously chilly in the cooler months, owing to its large windows and the draught that often blasted through—and approached Hecate with it in her hands.

“You really don’t—”

“Hecate,” Ada said, a warning look in her eyes, holding out the blanket threateningly. “You need to take care of yourself. I’m not having you catch a cold out here.”

Ada was right, she thought. If she became ill, going back to teaching on the 2nd of January would be most unpleasant.

“If you insist,” Hecate conceded in a low voice, “Headmistress.”

Before Hecate could take the blanket herself, Ada put her arms around Hecate to put the blanket about her shoulders—Hecate, daring suddenly making her body react on its own—interpreting the action as an embrace, leaned into Ada’s warm body, putting her arms about her waist and waited for Ada to tuck herself into her body, but—

“Hecate?” Ada said quietly.

Reality washed through Hecate like a Wide-Awake potion. She shrank away from Ada suddenly, blushing darkly in the starlight. “My apologies, Ada—”

“No need, Hecate,” Ada said kindly, tugging the blanket closer around Hecate’s shoulders. The pink, yellow, and white floral crocheted squares were hardly dignified against her black cloak and stiff embroidered dress. “I admit I was surprised, but not unpleasantly so.”

Hecate inwardly seethed at herself. She and the headmistress had held a close friendship over the years working together, but had never shown much physical affection for each other. And now, with this idiotic blunder, she had let too much of herself show. It could not happen again.

“Are you all right, my dear?” Ada peered at Hecate over her glasses, who had been standing in stony silence, wordless as the battlements they looked out over.

“Perfectly fine,” Hecate lied. She felt utterly ludicrous engulfed in Ada’s blanket, but it tingled her skin with its warmth enchantment. The feeling of Ada’s magic surrounding her was almost as wonderful as being privileged enough to spend time with her.

Ada rubbed Hecate’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I do wish I could see inside that head of yours sometimes.”

Hecate balked—she could think of nothing more dreadful than Ada _knowing_ her thoughts—her myriad feelings that she ought not to confess.

“But perhaps that would rather spoil the surprise,” Ada continued at Hecate’s silence.

“Perhaps,” Hecate echoed uncertainly, not fully understanding Ada’s train of thought, but attempting to cover up her awkardness. They remained silent for a few moments, each looking up into the bowl of stars above them.

“There is no one with whom I would rather witness the turn of the year, Ada,” Hecate said, her voice betraying the emotion she was desperately trying to disguise. She mentally traced the lines of the constellations, stoically determined not to err again in her judgment.

“Nor I,” Ada smiled, edging closer to Hecate and placing a mittened hand in the small of her back.

Hecate gave a twitch at the contact—her muscles contracted suddenly against the breach to her defences. “Ada?”

“Hecate, I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable,” Ada began. Hecate blushed furiously— _uncomfortable_ hardly began to whisper along the surface of what she was feeling. “But you hugging me made me realise how nice it feels to be close to you.”

Hecate’s entire body went rigid as her low-level anxiety crystallised into full-blown panic. “If that is your wish, Headmistress, I am certain I can provide that which you need.”

“Let’s not end the year with another equivocation, shall we, Hecate?” Ada murmured, slipping her hand from her mitten and curling her fingers around Hecate’s tight fist, urging her fingers to uncoil. “Let go.”

Hecate’s hand—trembling with the effort—relaxed, and allowed Ada’s fingers to rest in the dip in the centre of her palm.

“Your hands are ice cold.”

“I—I apologise.”

“I’ve longed to hold your hand for quite some time, Hecate Hardbroom,” Ada said, tears springing to her eyes wrinkled in happiness. “I don’t mind if they are a little cold.”

Hecate felt her world undoing at the seams as the woman she had secretly loved reframed her entire viewpoint with the simplest of actions.

Ada’s voice spoke out again. “I’ll only mind if you— if you tell me you don’t want me to hold your hand.”

“I—” Hecate began, the momentousness of what she was about to say causing her breath to catch in her throat. “I would never tell you such a thing.”

The very stars could not rival the sparkle in Ada’s eyes as she processed Hecate’s admission. Hecate felt her heart would beat out of her chest with the effort of merely existing now in Ada’s presence, with her hand still enclosed in Ada’s, connecting them as they stood alone and exposed on the summit of the tower.

“Then— what’s the time now, Hecate?”

Hecate reluctantly slipped her hand out of Ada’s to check her pocket watch. “It is a minute before midnight,” she returned.

Ada, using the edges of the blanket wrapped around Hecate, pulled her closer to her. “I should like very much to kiss you as the year turns, if you would indulge an old woman her fantasy.”

Hecate shook her head. “You are the most youthful soul I know, Ada—and it would be my pleasure.”

They stood facing each other—Ada’s look of adoration melting Hecate’s trepidation. The way Ada held her close with the blanket—she had never felt safer, nor more precious to someone before.

“Ada,” Hecate whispered her name like a vow.

Ada’s hand brushed against Hecate’s cheek so gently that Hecate felt every tingle of the contact, and her eyes closed in rapture. Then she felt Ada’s lips press up to her own—tenderly at first, and then beseeching—her imagination had never begun to anticipate how divine the sensuality of finally kissing Ada had been. Her hand cupped the back of Ada’s head—daring to stroke her silver hair that was softer than silk to touch—never wanting this moment to end.

As the stars twinkled overhead, and as the world at last came to rest at the start of a new journey, Hecate and Ada stood huddled together, the sweetness of their kiss still blossoming in their flushed faces. The kiss was over—the minute passed—but still Hecate knew that this would certainly not be the last time she would have the pleasure of kissing Ada Cackle, and wept tears of joy into the soft cable-knit beret perched atop her beloved’s head.


End file.
